


We've Already Won

by lovelarry10



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon fic, Cosy Harry, Domestic Fluff, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Established Relationship, Famous Harry, Famous Louis Tomlinson, Fluff, Harry and Louis are married, Harry watches the X Factor, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Smut, M/M, Pets, louis is a judge on X Factor, supportive husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 04:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16674922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelarry10/pseuds/lovelarry10
Summary: Harry settles down at home with Clifford and Evie to support Louis on the X Factor, and waits for Louis to return home to his family.





	We've Already Won

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this fluffy oneshot inspired by something I read in a group chat I'm a member of, Louis' Louies!
> 
> Title is of course from Walking in the Wind by One Direction.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you like it. Lots of fluff and cute Harry and Louis, what more could you want?! Let me know your thoughts in the comments :)

Harry swung the car into the driveway, cursing as he noted the time on the clock on the dashboard, seeing he only had ten minutes to get inside and get ready for the X Factor. His meeting with Jeff had run late, and in the end, he’d just walked out, telling him he knew he had prior arrangements for eight o’clock, which just made his manager roll his eyes as Harry scooped up his coat, shrugging it on. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he moaned, grabbing his bags out of the boot and slamming the lid closed, hurrying up the gravel laden driveway, the sound of the stones crunching under his boots filling the air. He transferred all the bags to one arm and fumbled in his pocket for his keys, pulling them out triumphantly and fiddling through them, locating the one with the blue holder on. He slid the brass key into the door, and sighed in relief as it swung open, the warmth of their home hitting him immediately.

Clacking claws sounded down the hallway and Harry braced himself as a black blur ran at him, circling his legs, tail wagging in excitement at someone finally coming home. Harry held out his hand, knowing what the dog wanted, trying to recoil it when a wet, sloppy tongue ran over the surface of his skin.

“Alright Cliff, calm down, love,” he chuckled, raising his hand to tell the dog to sit, which he did. Harry laughed again as he saw Clifford’s tail still swiping along the wooden floor, tongue lolling out of his mouth as Harry grabbed the little jar that set on the shelf, shaking out a couple of treats and giving them to Cliff to give himself a couple of minutes respite to get things off his body. He ruffled the dog’s head again, stroking his silky black ears before he shrugged off his coat, hanging it next to Louis’ multitude of jackets, and kicked off his boots, neatening them up. He leaned over and grabbed his bags, heading through to the sitting room.

As he arrived, he searched madly for the remote, removing it from where Louis had no doubt left it stuffed between the sofa cushions. He flicked the television on, pleased to see the adverts were still playing and that he hadn’t missed any of the show. He yanked his phone out of his pocket and sent off a quick text to Louis wishing him good luck as he walked through to their spacious kitchen, filling the kettle and turning it on, grabbing his favourite mug from the cupboard, and the milk from the fridge.

He hummed to himself as he busied himself with making the tea, dunking the teabag with a small silver spoon, dumping the used item in the bin, the spoon making a clatter as Harry threw it at the empty sink. He glanced at the dog’s bowl and quickly picked it up, refilling it with cold water, and grabbing the scoop for the bag of food, ladelling a spoonful in. He knew Louis would be a bit cross that he was late with Clifford’s dinner, but there wasn’t a lot Harry could do about it now.

“Evie! Are you here, girl?” he called, listening for any sign of his beloved cat, sighing when there was no response to his call. He watched as Clifford lolled in to the room, his initial excitement at Harry’s return already having worn off.  Harry smiled at him and patted his head as he picked up his mug, walking through to the sitting room, trying to read the text that Louis had sent him, grinning at the words on the screen.

_ You’ll be fine, love. You’ve got all the fans behind you, and to be honest, your boys deserve to be there. They’re great. Good luck. I love you. Xxxx _

Harry grinned as the Just Eat advert played, telling him the show was beginning. He set his cup down onto the table and turned up the volume, their large speakers making it sound as though Harry was in the room with them.  _ I wish _ , Harry thought to himself. There was nothing more he wanted than to be there supporting his husband, cheering him on proudly, locking eyes with him every time one of his acts went through. But that wasn’t for them. Not now, anyway. Maybe in the future. Instead, Harry would support silently from their home, with their pets, knowing Louis was thinking of him as much as he was of Louis. 

Harry settled back onto the sofa, curling up on the deep cushions, pleased Louis had listened to him over the choice of sofa all those years ago when they’d bought this house. Louis had moaned and groaned for weeks, telling him it was too big for just the two of them but now, he relented, telling Harry he was right. When they were both sprawled out on it, and the dog and cat joined them, it was more than a little cosy. Harry jumped when Clifford suddenly jumped up onto it, curling up over his feet, keeping them warm.

“Come to watch Daddy, hey boy?” he asked, stretching his arm out and stroking the dog’s silky fur. Clifford growled loudly in pleasure, nuzzling further into Harry’s hand, encouraging him not to stop. “Alright, I’m here.” Clifford’s head fell down, resting on his own paws, and Harry’s heart was filled with affection for the animal. He’d never been a dog person, that much he knew, but something about Clifford had melted his heart when Louis had brought the puppy home all those years ago. He’d wormed his way into Harry’s heart, and he had to admit it was nice to come home to the empty house to find the dog always happy to see him, to run around him, showing affection by licking over Harry wherever he could make contact with his skin. 

Dermot was talking into the camera and Harry sipped on his tea, relaxing back against the soft and squishy cushions. His phone buzzed again, and he knew it was Louis, probably the final text he’d be able to send until the first commercial break, although that wasn’t always a given. Too many times had Louis been caught on his phone to Harry, and he’d had several warnings about it, much to Harry’s annoyance. Harry protested that if he and Louis were free to tell the world what they were to each other, then he could support him in person, be by his side where he belonged, but to no avail. Instead, they relied on the wonder of technology.

“And here are your X Factor judges!” Dermot shouted, the camera panning over to where Louis sat behind the desk, smiling and clapping at the camera as Dermot read out their names. 

“There he is, Cliff, our boy.” Harry’s heart filled with pride as the studio filled with screams as his name was called. He admired the newly trimmed scruff on Louis’ face, certainly a change from the face he’d woken up to that morning, the one that had given him beard burn between his legs. Krystal had done a great job with his hair again, swooping it to the side, giving Louis the fringe that Harry loved so much on him. Harry longed to reach out and touch, tuck that stray lock behind Louis’ ear but he settled for smiling at him on the screen, admiring how easily he changed his gaze from Dermot to the camera, listening respectfully to the other judges. “He went with the McQueen jumper I bought him, Cliff. See, he should know I know fashion by now.”

Harry jumped as something landed on his lap, holding on tightly to his mug of tea, trying to stop the liquid sloshing out over his Gucci joggers. “Christ Evie, you gave me a fright. Where have you been hiding, hmm?”

The little kitten meowed up at him, her big eyes locking with Harry’s, ears standing out tall and proud from her little black and white head. She walked around on his long legs for a few moments, little claws digging in but Harry didn't wince, too used to it by now. She circled around a few times as Harry tried to keep his eyes on the screen, avoiding the tail that nearly hit him in the face several times. She finally settled down, curled up on Harry’s long legs and he sighed, realising he wasn’t moving for at least the next hour or so. Good job he was comfy.

“It’s time to find out who is leaving the show tonight. Please welcome the contestants.” Harry’s heart started to race as he watched Louis’ boys Dalton, Anthony and Brendan appeared on stage, all standing in a line, united as always. Harry admired so much how Louis had really created a little family with his contestants. They all had such love and respect for each other, and Harry knew just how much of that had come from Louis, how much time he dedicated to all of them. Too many times Harry had had to call Louis and remind him to come when he’d got too involved in a fierce Fifa tournament at the contestants house, and he’d even had to drive over and pick up his rather tipsy husband after their Halloween party. Luckily, Harry rather loved tipsy Louis.

Harry clapped quietly as the acts were announced, cheering a little too loudly as Dalton went through, quickly followed by Anthony much to the delight of the audience in the studio. Evie just looked up, unamused at the movement underneath her little body. Harry laughed louder when Louis’ delighted expression filled the screen, laughing at something the Scouser did on the screen. Harry felt fond watching it, loving how Louis’ smile lit up his face, knowing screen shots of that moment would soon be filling Tumblr and Twitter, with lovely captions about his husband.

Harry’s heart fell as Brendan was left stood on the stage, and he knew straight away how the sight would be breaking Louis’ heart. His husband had grown fond of the young Irishman, seeing someone similar to himself in him. He had a unique voice, much like Louis, but he didn't have much confidence, and Harry admired how Louis had taken the time to build that up, to make Brendan believe in himself. Harry started to bite on his thumbnail, nerves kicking in now, and it was in moments like this he was glad he wasn’t in the studio. He remembered it too much from his own X Factor days, and it wasn’t something he cared to relive.

As soon as Brendan’s name was read out, much to Harry’s delight, he saw the passion in Louis as he clenched his fists, screaming out in complete and utter joy. The last time Harry remembered Louis being so ecstatic was when Harry’s album had hit Number One last year, screaming and whooping until Clifford had come running in, barking his head off in alarm at his dad’s screams. Harry smiled at the memory and refocused on the TV, laughing and clapping as the younger man ran over to his husband, hugging him quickly. No matter what the fans on Twitter said, Harry knew it was pure admiration from Brendan to Louis, and Louis was just the kind of person who became approachable like that when you knew him. Plus, Louis never refused a hug from anyone, especially his family and friends.

Harry felt slightly calmer as he settled back down, ignoring the movement of Clifford’s paws against his thigh as the dog fell into a deeper sleep, undoubtedly chasing some poor animal in his dreams. Harry grabbed his phone and text Louis quickly as the two girls on screen struggled to hold back their tears, neither of them wanting to go home. Harry remembered that feeling too well, and tried not to watch, unable to see another singer’s dreams come to an end. They were soloists as well, which made everything harder.

Louis had always been Harry’s rock throughout their X Factor days. He was the one Harry turned to when he wasn’t feeling confident about his solo lines, knowing Louis would listen despite the fact he felt down about never having his own lines to sing. He just supported Harry with his words, his kisses and cuddles, and Harry had always drawn such strength from him. Even now, at the ripe old age of twenty four, it was still Louis that Harry sought out when he had a crisis of confidence, when he doubted himself minutes before he headed out on stage for his tour, when he locked himself in a bathroom at a radio station, nerves becoming too much to overcome alone. He knew now that Louis had resumed that roles with his contestants and watching it unfold filled Harry with such pride.

Harry continued to sip on his tea as the show played out, the taller blonde girl being sent home despite the boos in the audience at her elimination. It was cruel, but Harry knew that was the aim of the game. He startled as his phone started to vibrate the minute the show cut to commercial break, and he hurried to answer it, knowing who would be at the other end, albeit for just a few seconds.

“Hey, darling, well done!” Harry gabbled excitedly to the screen, Louis’ face filling his own phone screen, even though he was shrouded in darkness, probably huddled away in a corner. “You must be feeling good after that!”

“Fucking buzzing, babe,” he grinned, his smile bright enough to power a thousand homes in Harry’s opinion. “Shit, did you see how pleased they all were? I’m so fuckin’ proud of ‘em, Haz. Fuck, I might actually get them all through to the semi’s, can you believe it? Simon’s well pissed-”

“Oh, fuck him,” Harry laughed back, touching the glass screen in front of him, wishing it was Louis’ face he was touching instead. “Listen, I’m home and watching, got the kids with me.” He chuckled as he flipped the camera, panning down to where Cliff was laid out across his feet, and Evie was on his lap, turning the camera around again once he was done.

“Aww, my little family. Love you all, I’ll be home soon after the show, don’t wanna hang about too late tonight- yeah, okay, I’m coming. Gotta go Haz, love you.” The call suddenly ended and Harry pouted that he hadn’t had a chance to tell Louis he loved him too, even though he knew his husband knew it without a shadow of a doubt. 

The next musical guest came on screen, and Harry listened carefully, somewhat mesmerised by the man’s gravelly tone, the way he sang with such passion. It reminded him slightly of his husband, the way he put his body into his notes, closing his eyes as he meant every word pouring from his lips. It was a stunning song, and Harry found himself swaying to it, getting lost in the emotion. His Mum text him, wishing Louis luck and he thanked her, sending her a photo of the cat he knew she missed terribly. She’d raised Evie while Harry was off on tour, but now he was home, she’d come back to live with Louis and Harry again. Cliff hadn’t been too sure at first, but now they were a happy, settled little family. 

The next part of the show passed in a blur. A musical act came on that Harry had no inclination to watch whatsoever, and the times he did flit his eyes up to the screen made him roll those green eyes, thinking that the contestants on the show were actually better singers than the act on stage, strutting around as if she owned the place. He muted her until it was over, texting Louis again through the next commercial break, knowing Louis was probably with his acts, getting ready to head out and find out who would make it through to the next live shows the following weekend. It was a relentless rollercoaster, and Louis was often exhausted by the time he rolled home on a Sunday night, emotionally drained and just craving Harry and his cuddles.

The texts soon stopped, and Harry reached onto the back of the sofa, pulling down the soft charcoal grey blanket onto his lap, careful not to cover up the animals covering his lap and feet. He just put the blanket over his torso and avoided Evie, stroking her soft furry back gently as he got comfortable, knowing the worst bit was coming up. He fiddled with the rings on his rings, whirling his wedding band around where it had been all day. He didn't bother to hide it when he had meetings with Jeff and his team, and he felt calmer somehow when he wore it, like his link to Louis was stronger than ever.

Harry watched with pride in his eyes, the room warm and cosy around him as the television blared out the incessant screaming of the fans in the studio, all hyped and ready to cheer for their favourites and boo any decisions they didn't agree with. Louis strutted onto the stage, his boys surrounding him, and Harry paused the screen for a moment, eyes raking over the body as familiar to him as his own. He’d watched Louis try on several outfits that morning, and felt pleased with the one he’d settled on. The trousers clung perfectly to his firm thighs, and the jumper Harry had bought the other day was just the right fit, the sleeves almost long enough to give him the sweater paws Harry loved so much. 

Harry sat up slightly, pushing the plump cushion behind his lower back, eyes fixed on the screen across the room now. His mouth felt dry and as Dermot began speaking to the camera, he watched, wishing he could pick a camera that would remain fixed on his husband, trying to look at how Louis was dealing with the pressure. It was already so brilliant that Louis was the only one up on that stage with three of his contestants still intact, and Harry wondered if it would be pushing the realms of possibility that Louis might actually make it through to next week with all three boys by his side. Harry could only hope. 

Harry nodded in agreement when Danny was put through first, smiling softly at the interaction between the contestant and his mentor, clearly close and fond of each other. Clifford shook his head in the middle of the celebrations and Harry reached down to pet the dog, willing whatever it was disturbing his slumber to go away and let him rest. The tension filled music again, the camera flitting between the contestants, seeing the stress filling them. Harry felt it was cruel, and felt pleased he’d never have to go through again like that again. Once was enough.

“Dalton!” 

“YES!” Harry cried, fist pumping the air as he watched his husband celebrate on stage with the first of his boys through. Realistically, Harry felt Dalton was more than a shoo-in to the final, that this was mere formalities. The man had incredible vocal talent that left Harry in awe, even when he watched the raw footage Louis filmed on his phone for him at rehearsals on a Friday. He used his voice with such ease and had amazing range. Harry was convinced that under Louis’ wing, the man could go far.

“Brendan!”

“Oh my fucking god…” Harry muttered, sitting up straight, dislodging poor little Evie who sent Harry a grumpy look before leaping off his lap, settling on the armchair in the corner of the room, nestled on her colourful blanket they always left out for her. Woebetide any visitor who attempted to remove it because it always made Evie a very unhappy girl. Brendan was on the floor now, in complete and Louis was looking on with what Harry could only describe as pride in his eyes. Despite the fact he knew Louis wouldn’t get the text for a while, Harry couldn’t help but tap out a text congratulating him on Brendan getting through, knowing how much it would mean that he hadn’t had to wait until the final three were on stage.

Clifford stirred again as Harry sat up straight, eyes fixed on the television. As much as he hated giving Simon views for his own, Harry could never resist watching his husband do his thing on screen. He looked stunning as the camera panned back to him and Anthony, Louis’ arm looped around his shoulders, mumbling something into his ear for just the two of them to hear. Harry imagined the low rasp of Louis’ voice, his powerful and inspiring words, how Anthony would be taking so much from them. Harry almost wanted to cry as he quickly paused the screen on a shot of Louis, looking so handsome, realising that man on the screen was all his, whether or not the world got to know it.

“Anthony!”

“Oh hell fucking YES!” Harry shouted, fully jumping off the sofa now as he realised his husband was taking all three of his acts through to the semi-final of the show after an admittedly shaky start. “Oh god, Louis, fuck!” Clifford looked up at Harry and he bent down, grinning widely at the mutt, laughing at his unamused expression. “Your dad is a legend, Cliff, he did it! Best mentor in the whole bloody world, right there.” Louis was still screaming on stage, hugging Anthony, hoisting him up onto a hip, and Harry felt ridiculously happy watching Louis entirely in his element. He bashed another text full of pride out and sent it flying through the airwaves to Louis, hoping he’d be able to read in the break the show was bound to take in a minute.

His phone started pinging with excited messages from Harry’s own mum and sister who he knew watched religiously every week, and from Louis’ sisters in the group chat they all had going, supporting everything Louis did, sharing lovely photos they found on Tumblr that Harry proudly saved. As much as the professionally captured photos were beautiful to Harry, nothing beat the sleep faced, early morning selfies in bed Harry snapped of the pair of them. Nothing was more beautiful to Harry than Louis first thing in the morning.

Harry’s interest with the action on the TV waned now that Louis had done what he wanted and got all three boys through. He was far more occupied with trying to decipher the emoji laden messages the teenage twin sisters of Louis were sending through, just replying with the odd ‘yay!’ and ‘so proud of my Lou’ to show he was there and looking on. Harry felt all warm inside at the amount of support Louis had around him. His fans on Twitter and Tumblr and Instagram were amazing, and Harry knew how much it meant to Louis that they queued up every week, standing in the rain or the cold just to get a quick photo with him, and Harry wished they could tell to Louis to his face how proud they were of him, just as Harry planned to do later on.

The commercial break aired, and while Harry didn't hear from Louis, no doubt busy discussing things through with the team, Harry continued to text his husband supportive messages. Clifford had moved by now, curled into the corner of the sofa rather than over Harry’s feet, and Harry shuffled the blanket fully over his legs. He watched the sing-off between the rather talented young lady in a pink jumpsuit and two teenage girls bopping around the stage out of the corner of his eye. He was just waiting for any glimpse of Louis, really.

Before he knew it, it was time for the results, the hour long show coming to an end. It always amazed Harry how quickly time flew when he was watching the show. He smiled when he realised the little red light was showing on the sky box, recording the show. He was sure he’d force Louis to watch it back later, to watch the embarrassment on his features as he saw his impassioned reactions to what was happening around him on stage. Harry loved when Louis blushed like that, redness tinting his beautiful cheeks, making his blue eyes pop more, if that was even possible.

Harry could only watch with pride as Louis delivered his verdict, promising to leave his emotion at the door, instead judging it on vocal ability, choosing to put Shan, the young soloist through, a decision Harry wholeheartedly agreed with based on what he’d heard beforehand. Harry knew that Louis was fond of the girls, how hard they worked, balancing the show with the studies with a tutor at the house, but still, Harry agreed with Louis so far as that Shan had serious career prospects. Ayda sent the show to deadlock, and Harry bit his nail as he watched, imagining how much tension was filling the studio in that moment.

As the shock result was read out, Louis nodding knowingly at Simon as they spoke, words unheard by the cameras and microphones. As sorry as Harry felt for the young lady who had been ejected, all he could think about was how happy Louis was going to be when he made it home that night. The show ended after a speech by Simon, and Harry muted the television, not needing to hear the music over the credits.

Instead, he laid back, flicking through his stan twitter account, liking and retweeting as many of the positive comments about Louis as he could, ignoring the less kind ones. Most people were proud of him, tweeting out that he was a legend, the best mentor in the show, and that Louis and his boys deserved where they were right now. Harry definitely agreed with that, and sent out his own tweet, praising Louis, attaching one of the images Daisy had sent earlier on that she’d found on Tumblr and put into their group chat.

Harry must have nearly dozed off as he was startled awake by the loud ringing of his phone, fumbling with the device, hurrying to answer the call he’d been waiting for all night.

“Hello, my clever little husband,” he mumbled into the handset, aware his voice sounded full of sleep, but that Louis wouldn’t care less.

“ _ WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”  _ Harry just laughed and held the phone away from his ear for a moment, letting Louis’ scream echo out into the room rather than his eardrum, and waited patiently for his turn to talk. “ _ Fucking hell, Haz, can you believe this?! All my lads are through, oh my fucking god! _ ”

“Yes baby, I can well believe it. You never believe me when I tell you how brilliant you are… maybe now you’ll start to,” Harry said with a small smile on his lips, wishing Louis was there to kiss and cuddle and celebrate with. “I bet the boys are happy, right?”

“ _ Over the fucking moon, Haz. Shit, Brendan’s crying, Ant’s going fucking nuts back here, shouting at anyone who will listen to him… this is just insane.”  _

Harry shut his eyes and let Louis’ voice wash over him, soothing him, settling him.  “Are you coming home soon? I know you like to be there, but I miss you, and-”

“ _ Yeah, yeah, love, I’m coming home. Give me an hour or so, yeah? See the lads off, do a couple of photos for the guys waiting outside. Won’t be too long though.” _

_ “ _ Promise?” Harry asked, hating himself for it, but knowing Louis wouldn’t mind. Not really.

“ _ I promise. I love you, babe.” _

“You too, darling. See you really soon. We’re all waiting for you.” The line went dead and Harry grinned, hauling himself up off the sofa, careful not to jostle the still sleeping Clifford as he did so. He walked through the kitchen, opening the fridge door to see what he had that he could make Louis for a snack. He was always hungry after the live shows, expelling so much energy in his inevitable excitement, and Harry was nothing if not a good house husband, and at looking after his Louis.

He looked down when he felt a tail curl up and around his legs, Evie mewing lightly, pestering Harry for yet more food. She was a long, skinny cat, but Harry knew she had an appetite not unlike her dads, able to eat at any time of day or night, whenever the need struck her. He shook out some dry food into her bowl, topping up her water from the tap, setting it down carefully onto her little mat in the corner of the kitchen where her little pink bowl sat next to Clifford’s larger navy blue one. 

“What do you think Dad wants then, hmm?” Harry asked, pulling out some fresh pasta with cheese and milk, deciding to make Louis one of his favourites, his macaroni cheese. He pulled out all the required saucepans and bowls, making the meal easily, thanks to many nights over the years of their relationship spent making Louis meals in the middle of the night, curbing his odd cravings for food at 2am. The meal smelt delicious as Harry tucked it into a low heated oven, the scent permeating every corner of the house as it cooked steadily, waiting for Louis’ return.

Harry went back into the sitting room, curling up on the sofa, reading the book he’d been working on for weeks now. He’d been finding it hard to focus on anything, especially since he’d started work on his second album, and he missed the peace and tranquility of his mind that came with touring. He never had to think about anything, knowing the routine like the back of his hand, so this more relaxed and fluid lifestyle was hard for him to adjust to. Having Louis work such a vigorous schedule wasn’t easy either, and he missed the time they spent together, even though he knew Louis needed to do the best he could for his boys. He felt selfish and never liked to admit it, not to Louis.

He’d dashed upstairs to change into something a little nicer for Louis, some shorts and one of Louis’ old t-shirts he knew his husband liked to see him in. The house was warm now, the radiators blasting out heat, and Harry had smoothed out the duvet on top of their bed, making sure it was perfect and just waiting for the two of them later that night. 

The next thing he knew, he was being woken up by soft lips being pressed against his, a cold hand on his cheek. He let his eyes flutter open and smiled up at the blue eyes staring down into his own, nuzzling into Louis’ hand, kissing his palm gently. 

“Hello, beautiful,” Louis murmured, reaching down for another kiss. Harry went into it easily, stretching his arms up to wrap around Louis’ neck, trying to tug him down over the back of the sofa and into Harry’s lap. “Uh uh, not yet. I think I smell something rather tempting that I need to eat first…”

“Me?” Harry replied cheekily, winking at Louis who just laughed, walking over to greet Clifford with a rub to his head, the dog waking up, his tail slowly starting to wag in excitement when he realised who it was.

“Stay there, boy,” Louis said calmly, stroking down Clifford’s back, the dog whining slightly to gain his owners attention. “And where have you hidden my girl, huh, Styles?”

“Oi, Tomlinson to you, and you know it,” Harry pouted, sitting up now, the blanket that had been covering him up pooled around his waist now. “She’s over there, had enough of me jumping up and down and making too much noise when your boys went through. So proud of you, love. Give us a kiss, come here.”

Louis went easily, squishing his bum into Harry’s folded legs, shuffling up against Harry’s chest, where he felt so at home. Harry buried his face into Louis’ neck, loving the familiar smell, the after shave he’d bought him for Valentine’s Day earlier in the year. Harry eventually pulled back, tilting his chin for a kiss as Louis’ lips moved against his, Harry tasting something that seemed like cigarettes on his tongue. 

“You been smoking again?”

“Just a quick one before I headed back home,” Louis promised, knowing that Harry didn't like him tasting of cigarettes, preferring something else that was much more  _ Louis. _ “You reckon that dinner’s ready? I’m starving.”

Harry nodded and gripped Louis around his hips, lifting him up gently, placing him on the cushion in front of him as he got up, going through to their large kitchen. He slotted his hands into the over gloves hanging from the door and pulled out the dish, the cheese bubbling perfectly on top. He inhaled and smiled, spooning out a generous portion into a white bowl, sticking a fork into it. He handed it over to Louis who propped it up on a cushion, his feet back in Harry’s lap the moment he sat down, Harry’s hand almost entirely enveloping one of Louis’ smaller feet.

“So, how did the boys take it? I was sure something horrible was going to happen, that you couldn’t possibly be that bloody brilliant and get all three of them through to the final…”

“Cheeky shit,” Louis mumbled, blowing on a piece of pasta that he’d speared with his fork. “But seriously. They were so fucking over the moon, especially Brendan. I think he’d convinced himself that he was going home anyway, he just hugged me so tight the minute the show finished, Haz. I wish he knew how fucking good he was…”

“Bit like someone else I know…” Harry muttered, peeping up at Louis from under his eyelashes. 

“Yeah, yeah. I got there in the end, though, didn't I? Had someone else to tell me how good I was, that I deserved to be there.” Harry just grinned down at his lap, knowing Louis was talking about him. They’d been each others support system through the early years of the band, and it made Harry feel so happy that that was very much still the case, all these years later. They were there for each other, whether it was through text messages when they were half a world away, or cuddles and kisses in their bed late at night. Their support and love for each other never changed.

“Dalton alright? I was a bit worried after how upset he was after his song last night,” Harry continued, having been moved nearly to tears by Dalton’s reaction to the unanimously brilliant comments he’d received, Louis nearly crying with pride down the phone after the show had ended. 

“Yeah, he’s good. I just… it’s overwhelming for him, I think. In the rehearsals, he’s forever wanting to practise the sing off song, like people are gonna fall out of love with him or something. I think that’s what everyone loves though, you know? How humble he is. Reminds me of Li in a way, how he doesn’t get how good he is.”

“I get that,” Harry agreed, nodding and running his fingers through his unruly mop. They sat silently as Louis finished off his bowl of pasta, soon joined by a now awake Evie who hopped up onto the back of the sofa, pushing her nose against the back of Louis’ head, making Harry laugh and try to snap a photo of it. Louis didn't have the heart to push her off and instead moved his bowl aside, letting her curl up on his legs. Harry watched with fondness in his eyes, loving how caring and gentle Louis was with their pets, mind floating off to a few years in the future, possibly watching Louis with something else just as precious and fragile in his eyes.

“You know how proud I am of you, Lou? I’m just like, in awe of you, every week. Whenever you’re on stage, people just watch you, like, all the time. Those boys look to you for everything. For support, for reassurance, for hope. And you give it, so easily. You inspire me, and them, Lou, every single moment I watch you with those lads. I wish I could tell the whole fucking world how proud I am of you, how proud I am that you’re mine.”

“I’m just being the person I wish we’d had there for us,” Louis admitted, reaching for Harry’s hand, tangling their hands together, resting on Louis’ leg next to Evie’s sleepy body. “I know this job wasn’t entirely my choice but if I’m going to do it, I’ve got to do it right, you know?”

“I do. And I was looking through Twitter again after the show-”

“Not that fucking stan account again, Harry…” Louis moaned, throwing his head back and groaning at how embarrassing Harry could be about him on the social networking site.

“Yes,  _ Lewis _ , that stan account. People love you. Even people who weren’t fans of us in the band are loving you, saying you’re the best one on the panel, that the boys are lucky to have you as their mentor.” Louis was blushing now, and Harry couldn’t resist layering on the praise thickly, knowing it made Louis all wriggly and coy. “There were some pretty fucking hot photos of you in that jumper I bought you as well, wanted to tweet out that it was me who got it for you.”

“This one?” Louis murmured, pulling at the knitwear around his chest. “Don’t get too big headed, Harold. Hate to say you were right, makes you all braggy…”

“I know what looks good on you, Mr Tomlinson,” Harry murmured, his voice husky now, eyes dark as he looked at Louis. “I also happen to know it’ll probably look better on our bedroom floor…”

“Yeah?” Louis rasped back, eyes meeting Harry’s, meeting across the sofa. The air between them had changed significantly thanks to Harry’s last words, and Louis didn't break their gaze, almost staring Harry down. “Remember what you said earlier?”

“What I’d do if you got all three through to the semi-final?” Louis just nodded, eyes dark as he looked at Harry, licking his lips. “Were you thinking about that on stage, then? When Anthony went through?”

“Just a bit,” Louis admitted, sliding his hand down into his lap, under the blanket. Harry smirked at him, slowly climbing up and lifting Evie’s body up with his hands, placing her back on the warm sofa spot he’d left behind. He stood in front of Louis, a hand extended in front of him. 

“Well, I’d better not let you down, had I?” Harry purred, pulling Louis to his feet, their bodies slamming together as Louis stumbled, falling against Harry. “Get that ass upstairs, can’t have Cliff and Evie seeing what I’m gonna do to you...”

Louis squealed as he ran upstairs, Harry swatting at his backside before their bedroom slammed shut, leaving Clifford and Evie all alone downstairs, relieved to have a bit of peace and quiet again. 

*****

“Holy fucking shit, Haz…” Louis panted, spread eagled on the bed, sweating and trying to catch his breath. “You  just … wow.”

Harry laughed, staring across the pillow at Louis. He knew his cheeks were red, his hair was a sweaty, matted mess against his head but he didn't care. He felt good, the pain in his legs and arse was more than worth it, and he felt he’d more than rewarded Louis for the way he’d triumphed on the show that night. “Yeah? You enjoy that, then?”

“Um, I reckon so,” Louis said, rolling over onto his side, running his fingers through the come splattered up Harry’s torso. “You seriously need to ride me more often, that was so fucking hot. I think I need to work even harder next week. What am I gonna get if I get them all through the final then?”

“You don’t even wanna know,” Harry laughed, picking Louis’ hand up and sucking on his fingers, ignoring the shocked expression on Louis’ face because of what he was doing. “I think a good old incentive works wonders though, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but it has to be the right incentive,” Louis mumbled, curling his bare body up against Harry’s. “I still can’t believe that actually happened, you know. I’m sure there’s people out there who think the lads are only through cos of me, but I like to think it’s because they’re just good enough, that they deserve their place. I’d hate it if it was just because of me.”

“It’s not, love, stop blowing your own trumpet,” Harry said with a frown, hating when Louis got down on himself. 

“Well, I could blow you instead,” Louis suggested, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, making Harry giggle again.

“You’ll have to give me a while love, not as young as I used to be.” Harry kissed Louis softly then, their tongues moving against each others, tangled together under the sheets. “We’re booking a hotel for the final, though. Wanna make it feel special, and that means a bed that isn’t ours, and a fucking hideously expensive hotel suite all to ourselves.”

“Fuck yes,” Louis replied, sucking a deep bruise into the side of Harry’s neck, licking over it, enjoying how Harry moaned under his touch. “You seriously think one of my boys could do it, win the whole show?”

“I do. I mean that, not just as your husband or whatever, but as a human being with ears. They’re amazing, Louis, stop doubting yourself and your boys. As much as I hated Shan going tonight, it definitely did wonders for your boys, that’s for sure.”

“It did, didn't it?” Louis replied with a grin, eyes crinkling at the corners, just as Harry loved. “Even if they don’t do it, I’m still fucking proud of them, babe. I’m gonna do whatever I can to make sure they succeed in this business. If anyone deserves it, it’s these three boys. I’ve never known three lads work so hard for anything before.”

“Oi, rude,” Harry teased, prodding Louis in his nipple. “I just worked  _extremely_ hard, thank you very much.” Harry reluctantly climbed off the bed then, grateful to the packet of baby wipes he kept in his bedside drawer, cleaning both himself and Louis up before he grabbed some clean pyjamas and boxers from his chest of drawers. They both quickly got dressed, pulling on clothes, Harry in a plain set of pj's, Louis in plaid trousers that Harry loved on him simply because they were too long, and Harry loved seeing his husband in his clothes.

"You get my vote, Haz, that's for sure." Harry smiled and nodded his head, telling Louis that was the right answer.

They sat on the bed facing each other, legs folded, knees touching, hands linked. They had always been a tactile couple, and despite the many changes they'd gone through in their eight years in the limelight, some things between them always remained the same, and Harry was grateful this was one thing that remained consistent. They just enjoyed the closeness for a moment, Louis tucking a lock of hair behind Harry's ear, his touch gentle and soft as always.

Harry leaned in for a kiss before pushing Louis onto his back and straddling his thighs, looking down at him. “Seriously, though. I can’t believe I might win this thing, that I might have the winner in my category.”

“I think it’s pretty safe to say you do, definitely,” Harry said, bending his head to brush his lips against Louis’ once more, resting against his chest. “Either way though, they’ve done their best, and they’ve done you proud. That’s enough, and winning would be the icing on the cake.”

“Do you even know me, Harry? I’m one of the most competitive people you’ve ever met. I can’t even let you win at fucking Uno without throwing a fit.”

“I know. I’ve seen your ugly side, Louis Tomlinson.” Louis didn't even bother to blush, just shrugging his shoulders, knowing Harry was entirely right. “But Lou…”

“What?” Louis blinked up at him, and Harry’s heart filled with love again. 

“You’re doing amazing. I love you so much, you know.” 

“Well, good, cos I love you too,” Louis replied, running his thumb down Harry’s cheekbone.

“And whatever happens, you’ve got me, whether it’s to celebrate in two weeks time, or to commiserate. You’ve always got me. We’re a forever kind of thing.”

“Well, in that case, Haz,” Louis began, propping himself up on his elbows, looking Harry in the eye. “We’ve already won, haven’t we?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you SO much for reading. xx
> 
> [Please reblog the fic post on Tumblr](https://chloehl10.tumblr.com/post/180287293026/weve-already-won-by-lovelarry10-7492-words) if you enjoyed it!


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